The Only Girl in the World
by Tegildess
Summary: River's still a tad off; Simon's still a tad tactless around Kaylee; a new passenger raises suspicions; and Jayne may actually have a conscience. 3 months after Miranda, witness a routine heist go terribly, completely wrong. Please R R!
1. Unify or Die

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**One– Unify or Die**

Doctor Simon Tam watched his sister move lazily across the empty cargo bay of _Serenity_, graceful as she swung her arms in a wide arc and turned and twisted to some un-heard music of her own. At first the movement seemed mindless, but soon she lapsed into the elaborate footwork of a complicated dance he could vaguely remember her performing when she was half her current height, but as lithe and talented as ever. She had been six or seven, tulle skirt billowing as she performed the rapidly-learned choreography for the dignitaries their parents had for guests at dinner one night, beaming as they applauded.

He wondered if she could remember that night, or if the steps were automatic, rising to the surface of her brain as often did some less innocuous things. Snatches of conversation. Nightmares that were real, or had been once. And the voices, screaming and screaming, waking her from her adjoining bunk stumble into Simon's room and sob quietly as he soothed her back to sleep. _Those_ nights were never pleasant, but this dancing– River could almost be her old self, leaping and pirouetting across the floor of their palatial childhood home. She could almost be her old self, except…

This was the dull gray cargo bay of a disreputable Firefly-class transport ship, and they were outlaws, and with the snatches of long-lost dance recitals also came memories of needles in her forehead and men with blue hands and always, always, the screaming that nobody else could hear. He'd thought she was getting better.

"But I am getting better," River said calmly, not breaking from her rhythm. "Come dance with me."

Simon smiled slightly and descended the stairs to the floor of the cargo bay. She met him with a whirl of skirts and patter of bare feet on the floor, grabbing his hands and pulling him along in her wake, like a leaf caught in a stream. And he was floating, floating, letting her lead because she had always been the better dancer– always been the better _anything_, really, if she decided she wanted to be. Of course, she never wanted to be a surgeon. And she had a certifiable phobia of men in scrubs and masks _now_.

Suddenly, she stopped spinning. Simon braced for the breakdown, the inevitable moment when fleeting good cheer would turn into tears and flickers of half-remembered atrocities Simon could only imagine.

It didn't come.

"Kaylee!"

River opened the cargo bay doors with such speed and excitement that Simon had hardly registered the name shouted before _Serenity_ had been opened to the sights and sounds of the planet Santo. Mal had said it was a good place to pick up passengers. Hadn't he gotten Simon and River just a planet away, on Persephone? And the Shepherd, whose spot Kaylee had been sent out to solicit out while the rest of the crew _worked_.

But Kaylee had returned alone.

"No luck," she said cheerily. "But I ain't givin' up just yet. There's plenty of people what want rides off this planet. Just got to find the right one– I'm sure of it!"

Simon grinned. Kaylee was a perpetual beam of sunshine, even when splattered with engine grease as she usually was.

"Sure, they want rides," he said, smiling. "Just not on _this_ ship."

Kaylee planted her hands on her hips. "Now don't you go sayin' nothing against _Serenity_ again," she insisted. "There ain't a ship in the sky better. And that's a _fact_. Anyone who can't appreciate that is– well, he's– well, we don't need 'im anyhow. So there."

Simon smiled wryly and glanced out at the wide expanse of Santo visible outside the ship. A dusty planet, under Alliance law but not nearly so civilized or sophisticated as Persephone. The pick of passengers here would be thin, doubtless– petty criminals and would-be pioneers looking for a ride to settlements on Triumph or Beylix. There would be no replacing Shepherd Book, and the inevitable new passenger who tried to fill the hole would probably only succeed in emphasizing the crew's loss.

"But I should be getting' back out– just came in for some shade," Kaylee said brightly, grabbing a turquoise parasol off a crate near the back of the bay. "Heat's somethin' awful out there," she added.

"_Suns shine as brightly on the Border as the Core_," River said quietly.

Kaylee nodded, a bit confused, but too used to River's cryptic interjections to think too much of the comment. "That's right," she said. "I'd bet there ain't a hotter place in the system on a day like this. But it is real shiny, sky's so clear."

Simon shook his head. "What did you say, River?"

"Unify or die," she whispered, fleeing the protection of the ship as she raced out into the scalding Santo afternoon. "Unify or die!"

- - - - -

"Unify or die? There is rain on Triumph as Ariel, on Shadow as well as Sihnon. And the suns shine as brightly on the Border as the Core. Unify or die! How do you catch more flies? But even if the Alliance did promise more than bitter vinegar– unify or die, my word– even if the lure of a promised shuttle and acre of soil could draw Browncoats from their guns to the central planets, I would urge them yet to hold. How do you catch more flies? With sugar, or with vinegar? I don't expect it matters much, catching flies. This war is about men. And men should not be caught, to be squashed under the heel of impersonal government like so many pestering insects. The independents are men, not flies, and I am certain that no amount of proposed sugar could budge the Browncoats from Serenity Val–"

Jayne Cobb shut the book with a snap, the hologram of the speaker disappearing immediately.

"Shiny," he said sourly. "Books. Why in the 'verse are we stealing ruttin' _books_?"

"Not just any books," Mal said darkly. "Banned books from the Unification War. Recognize the subject?"

Jayne scowled. "All I hear's a lot of _tsway-niou_ about flies and sugar and _fahng-tzong fung-kwong duh jeh_. Anyone wantin' this junk's gotta be crazy."

"It's twenty platinum for one crate," Zoe added shortly, turning around in her seat to respond as she piloted the mule steadily toward the ship, just visible in the distance.

Jayne fell silent for a moment. "Those must be some books." He picked up the volume about flies and sugar and opened to the first page, as though he sincerely intended to read it through. From the smooth white page appeared a hologram of the enthusiastic orator, a flickering girl with dark copper hair.

"Jiuyang," she said. "My name is Elizabeth Arnold. I am publishing this in support of the Independent Army."

- - - - -

"So– who's the new recruit?" Mal grunted as he and Zoe lowered one of the crates off the mule and stowed it away in one of the many secret compartments _Serenity _boasted. "Kaylee?"

But Kaylee was not welcoming potential passengers with her spinning parasol in the entrance to the cargo bay, and neither Simon nor River could be found in the infirmary. Only the latched door to Inara's shuttle and the smell of incense seeping out indicated any sign of life on _Serenity_.

"_Go-se_," Jayne muttered. "They left the ruttin' ship!"

"Feds?" Zoe suggested.

Mal shook his head. "Doubt it. It's sand and saloons for miles around. Shouldn't be too hard to find 'em. Best case– they're all out lookin' for passengers. Worst– River had an episode and darted off someplace. And if that's what happened, she can handle herself until we get there. Jayne– stay here and guard the ship. Zoe– let's go."

Jayne watched after as the two left to rescue– once again– the wayward River Tam from whatever trouble she and he brother had gotten into this time.

"_Jing-tzahng mei yong-duh_," he muttered, pulling the hologram book out of his pocket and opening up to where he left off. "Useless."


	2. A Friendly Ship

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Two– A Friendly Ship**

Panting, Simon– with Kaylee at his heels– found his way to the door of seedy-looking saloon that River had disappeared through just a moment before. He hesitated, and raised his hand to knock. Laughing, Kaylee pushed him through the swinging wooden door and into the dimly lit room.

"River?" he asked tentatively, unwilling to move into the thick of things where men lay passed out over tables or belched loudly as women on their laps giggled. "_River?_"

Rolling her eyes, Kaylee grabbed Simon's arm and pulled him through the room to the back, where too young women sat– one of them leaning forward, eyes wide in amazement, the other River Tam.

"River!" Simon said, relief filling and smoothing every wrinkle across his face. "_Run-tse duh fwotzoo_! Oh thank you, thank you!"

River sat up straight, smiling placidly, and gestured to the girl across the table. She was hardly so calm. Her reddish-brown hair had fallen mostly out of a long plait winding like a crown around the top of her head, and her clothes– though of relatively good quality– looked like they'd serviced her for quite a long time without much of a rest. And her eyes, locked on River's face like a laser sighting, were astonished.

But in just another second, she shook her head and plastered on a smile for Simon and Kaylee. "Mornin' to you," she said with a nod. And glancing at River– "Is she... with you?"

"Yes, yes– River is my little sister. I sincerely apologize if she frightened you, or startled you. River's just very–"

"Oh no!" the girl exclaimed, standing. "It's not that at all! She just came right in here and straight to my table and said she knew a ship what'd take me to Beylix, like she'd read my very mind. Amazing. I've been tryin' to get off Santo for a month now, but there hasn't been too much traffic. Is it true? Can you take me off?"

"Why, yes– we have been looking for passengers," Simon said, nodding. "A spot recently opened up on the ship– our ship. I'm sure you'll be welcome."

"Oh, of course she'll be welcome Simon!" Kaylee interjected, taking the bemused girl's arm kindly as the young woman picked up a canvas bag, probably holding clothing and other personal effects, as well as a small crate she'd been using as a footstool. "We'll just go on back right now and talk to the Captain, and I just _know_ he'll take you on." Kaylee turned to Simon, beaming. "Now isn't that just like River?"

Simon shrugged, but taking River's hand, he was hardly so thrilled. First, his sister had run off spouting off lines from old revolutionary rhetoric, and next, she'd picked up this poor, disheveled young local woman. It hardly seemed to fit. And yet, walking docilely beside him, River appeared completely satisfied with whatever she had accomplished during that strange excursion.

"Kaylee! Simon!"

Simon looked up sharply. It was Mal's voice, coming from just a few yards away. He and Zoë, fully armed, merged onto their path from a side street. They looked flushed, as though they'd been walking for a while under the hot Santo sun.

"Hi Captain!" Kaylee exclaimed. "Guess what we found? Passenger!" She smiled. "Well, actually, River found 'er. And she needs to get to Beylix too, just like us. Isn't it perfect?"

They had reached the blessed shade of _Serenity's_ cargo bay by now, and River danced over to stand before the hidden compartment holding the illegal books the crew had just retrieved. Joining the conversation, she pointed happily at the girl: "Here's the rest of the cargo," she said pleasantly.

The young woman looked a little unnerved by that statement, but did her best not to balk under the captain's hard stare.

"Mornin' sir," she said. "If you're really goin' where I've been told y'are, then I'd be right thrilled to come along. I can't pay– yet– but I can _promise_ you I'll be able to get my hands on some funds at Beylix. And if that's not enough, I can make myself useful. I can cook, clean– and I'm a good seamstress if need calls for it."

Mal looked at her carefully for a moment, then asked: "Have a name, kid?"

"Yes, sir!" she said eagerly. "My name's–"

"_Wu de ma_," Jayne interrupted, jumping down from his perch on top of the mule. "You're that girl from the book! The one with all the flies!"

"Sir, I'm sure you're mistaken. I only–" she tried to say, but Jayne wouldn't have it.

He pulled the small volume from his jacket pocket and opened to the first page, where the hologram girl emerged from the white paper to introduce herself.

"_Jiuyang_," the tinny voice said. "My name is Elizabeth Arnold. I am publishing this in support of the Independent Army..."

The image continued to flicker and speak from the book as Mal leaned closer for a better look, glancing up occasionally to compare the hologram with the flesh-and-blood girl that stood before them,

"Does look pretty similar," he pronounced finally. "May be you're right, Jayne."

Simon shook his head, incredulous. "Never thought I'd hear those words in that particular order," he muttered.

Mal took a step closer to the prospective passenger. "Hard to tell– hologram's kinda grainy-lookin'."

Jayne shook his head vehemently. "Hair's the same color," he said firmly, as if that fact made everything final.

"Yeah, but she sounds like us," Kaylee noted. "Wouldn't'cha think some famous writer'd talk real proper, like Simon and River?"

Simon seemed to emerge from his thoughts at the sound of his name. "That's it," he said, turning to the presumed Elizabeth Arnold. "That's how River found you!" In less than a minute, he'd related for the crew the story of River's strange quotations and how she'd been drawn to the lone girl in the back of the saloon. "She was quoting you because she could feel you were here," he ended, beaming at the newcomer with all the excitement of a child who had just put together an especially difficult puzzle.

"Now that makes some sense," Mal said, nodding. He glanced down at the girl. "But is it true?" You really Elizabeth Arnold? _The_ one and only?"

The young woman glanced fearfully around the cargo bay– taking in everything from the enormous man who'd first identified her to the grim captain staring down at her. And with the most confident smile she could manage–

"Yes, sir. I am," she said. "Miss Kaylee, I am very sorry to have deceived you, but I couldn't really be myself until I was sure this _Serenity_ you spoke of was a friendly ship– I'm not exactly on the best terms with the Alliance, as you might guess. But now, I suppose, I can speak plainly. I _am_ Elizabeth Arnold. I have nothing now, but my previous promise stands. I can pay you when we get to Beylix... if you'll have me."

Mal smiled wryly. "'Course we'll have you. You're the famous orator. We'd be _honored_ to take you aboard."

And as the girl smiled with relief, dropping her crate to the floor, Mal turned and beckoned to Zoë.

"What is it, Captain?" she asked.

"Give her a bunk, and get that crate stowed away," he said quietly, glancing back at Elizabeth, who stood conversing with Simon and Kaylee quite happily. "I've got a feeling she'll be a whole lot more useful to us when we get to Beylix than she even knows."


	3. Enlightened Conversation

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Three– Enlightened Conversation**

"No stops, we could make Beylix in less than a week," Zoë said, stopping with Mal just outside the Bridge where River navigated. She couldn't go in. As strong as she forced herself to be day by day, she just couldn't watch the child prodigy work against that all-too-familiar backdrop of endless space and plastic dinosaurs. It was too much. Not that Zoë had trouble with River as a pilot– she was a good pilot– but she didn't like to watch the girl handle the controls so swiftly and coolly (much like Wash had) with such little expression and laughter (much like Wash _hadn't_). For a while yet, she'd do her best to keep her discussions with the Captain just _outside_ the Bridge.

"Five days at most," she finished.

"Good," Mal said with a nod. "Tell River to change course for Persephone. I think the Badger may just have a job for us, if we can get there tonight."

Zoë started. "Now? We already have cargo from Santo. What about Beylix?"

"Beylix can wait. In fact, a little waiting might be good for 'em. Might be good for me too. That exchange ain't gonna be real pleasant, Zoë," he said wearily.

Zoë frowned, thinking about Jayne and his questions about the "ruttin' books" a few days before on Santo. She had mentioned how much money the bounty was, and, come to think of it, the price did seem a little high. "Who exactly's paying us for this cargo, Captain?" she asked.

Mal cocked his head toward the Bridge door before walking off. "Persephone. Tell River."

Zoë nodded briefly, but only continued to stand outside the door, hoping against hope that River just happened to be on her wavelength. The ship was shake slightly, and she'd feel the pressure of a slight turn as _Serenity_ changed course for Persephone. They held steady.

"Zoë?"

"Yes, Captain," she replied, stolid, but her feet wouldn't do what her mind said she must. What it simultaneously knew she couldn't.

"You know where that Elizabeth is?" he asked finally.

"Down in the infirmary," she said, and with a slight smile added: "As usual."

"Then go tell her we'll be needin' her tonight. Loading bay, in an hour."

Zoë nodded, part of her ashamed to be unable to carry out a simple order, and another part amazed to be so relieved by the lifting of that small responsibility from her shoulders. This second job from the Badger would be good. Action– you don't have to think. At least, not about the thin, precarious line of plastic dinosaurs which kept her from falling out into the black. A gun in her hand and firm ground under her feet– action. She could handle that much.

"And if she doesn't like it, remind her that we're war buddies, us three," Mal added, just a trace of sarcasm in his voice. "It'll be just like old times. Fighters and the intelligentsia."

Zoë nodded her assent.

_And_ she could handle informing Famous Anti-Unification Propagandist Elizabeth Arnold that tonight was the night she could start earning her keep.

- - - - -

"Amazing," Simon said. "My parents, as you might imagine, were staunch Alliance supporters, but my father always read the literature– all of it. I remember hearing your voice in the parlor. I was in my residency– what could I care about Browncoat rhetoric? But I remember hearing you..." He shook his head, eyes shining. "You must have been so young."

"Not so young," Elizabeth responded, her face harboring a faint smile as she glanced up at the Doctor.

Simon nodded eagerly. "Of course not, of course not," he agreed. "I just can't believe it. All that seems so long ago, but here you are, in the blood, choosing this ship for the same reasons I did– because you're as good as a fugitive, because the name _Serenity_ (God-willing) _is_ perhaps a sign, a portent of some future peace. Am I right?"

"Of course you're right," Elizabeth said. "Exactly those reasons. Of course... I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, your sister."

Simon couldn't hear the tenseness in her voice and didn't see how her hands clenched, gripping her skirt so her knuckles went white. She had been sitting there in the infirmary, engaging in this memory-lane conversation with Doctor Tam for over an hour now, and beads of sweat were beginning to trickle down around her ears.

"I'm sorry– I must be boring you," Simon said finally, after talking on and on about something (Elizabeth had no idea whatsoever). Probably, he'd noticed her breathing a little strangely, a little too deeply. "Elizabeth? Are you all right?"

She nodded silently, choking down the bile rising in her throat. Panic attack.

"Yes! Oh, yes, I'm fine," she insisted. "It's just been an eventful weekend. I haven't slept too well. Too nervous." That, at least, was true.

Simon smiled sympathetically. "When I first arrived with River– and she was in cryo, you know– I was horribly nervous. Couldn't sleep, hardly ate, I was so worried someone would find out who I was." He laughed. "But you're done with that, aren't you? At least until we get to Beylix. Mal and Zoë– they fought in the war together. Maybe they don't show it too much, but they're happy to have you. You supported them. And if they're a bit abrasive at times, it's only because you remind them of things that may not be so pleasant to look back on. But believe me, Elizabeth, they're happy to have you here. You don't have to hide."

She smiled pathetically and felt her stomach turn again.

"And, to be honest, I'm happy to have you here too," Simon added seriously. "This ship... it's my home now, but it's nice for a change to have a little enlightened conversation, with an educated person."

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you," she said. "And really, Doctor Tam, you don't bore me."

His face lit up. "Call me Simon, please," he said.

"Mind if I interrupt?" Zoë stood in the doorway, imposing with her arms crossed and hair loose like a wild, dark mane. "I have orders from the Captain, Miss Arnold."

Elizabeth stood immediately, fighting the clenching fear that made her want to run. Her heart was racing. Could anyone hear it? How could she hide medical symptoms from a medical doctor? The room was closing in. Her skin was burning. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. And the room was spinning, spinning–

"Orders?" she asked innocently, clenching her teeth as though the tactile nature of the act would give her the bearings she needed not to drown, not to capsize in this little rocking room. "Of course. What are they?"

_Run-tse duh fwotzoo!_ The panic attack, thankfully, was beginning to subside, the constant anxiety falling back to a manageable level. Orders from the Captain– she couldn't very well go faint when there was something concrete for her to do.

"We're touching down at Eavesdown Docks," Zoë said. "The Captain, Jayne, and I have a job to do and we need your help." She paused. "You are aware of the nature of this ship, aren't you Miss Arnold?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said quietly.

"And you don't mind that this job of ours may be illegal?"

"I'm no Alliance supporter," Elizabeth said, self-consciously.

"Very good," Zoë said. "That's what the Captain'd hoped you'd say. We'll be meeting in the cargo bay in an hour."

Zoë turned to exit, but Elizabeth stopped her with an outstretched hand that begged _Wait!_ "Did– did the Captain say what exactly he needed my help for?" she asked.

Zoë smiled, and for the first time in the conversation, her face was kind, compassionate. "Some of us are fighters," she said. "And some of us aren't. But even those that aren't have their talents." She sighed. "No– he didn't say."


	4. Less Enlightened Conversation

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Four– Less Enlightened Conversation**

Jayne Cobb was alone in the cargo bay, guns laid out in a wide arc in front of him. Periodically, he'd choose one that– to her eyes– looked perfectly fine and polish it. Another would be lifted a couple times as though to gauge the weight and then switch positions with an alternative firearm. Occasionally, he would remove another weapon from his vest– a dagger, a grenade– and look it over carefully before either laying it aside or placing it back under his jacket.

"You can ruttin' well come down now," he said finally, after having been observed for nearly a quarter of an hour. "I ain't gonna shoot _you_ with none of these."

Elizabeth started– he hadn't even looked around to guarantee he really was speaking to someone and not the thin air. Maybe, she could sneak back up to her room real quietly so that, when he did look around, he couldn't be sure anybody had been watching him at all.

"Come on," Jayne repeated gruffly, turning around impatiently to beckon her down the stairs.

Elizabeth couldn't very well turn and run with him watching her like that. She was a brave Browncoat supporter who had stared down the Alliance six years ago. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

"_Guay_! A man'd think you're tryin' to turn yourself into that crazy girl River, sneakin' around like that."

"Sorry," Elizabeth said. "I didn't mean to be impolite."

"_Dahng ran_ you didn't," Jayne said with a snarl. "Ain't it just like you high society folk– sneakin' around til you figure somebody might not call that _proper_."

Elizabeth nodded silently took a seat on the bottom step of the metal stairway. "You're right. I am sorry, though."

Jayne paused in the work of polishing one of his larger guns for the third time. "What'cha say?"

"You're right," Elizabeth said. "And I'm very sorry for upsetting you." She could only see his back from where she sat, but Elizabeth could tell from the sudden easiness with which he sat and the relaxes way he leaned back against a crate to finish up with his gun that her apology had mollified the man, at least a little. Jayne was no longer tensed for even a verbal fight.

"You ever been to Eavesdown Docks, kid?" he asked after a few minutes, more amiable than she'd ever seen.

"No," Elizabeth replied. "I haven't been."

"No, I betcha haven't," Jayne repeated. "You'd be talkin' at all the big fancy cities. Well I'll tell you this– Eavesdown ain't the sorta place you're gonna want to be runnin' off your mouth in. Lots of people around. And not all of 'em so friendly as me."

He glanced back at the girl on the stairs to make sure she was listening, jerked his head so she'd come up a little closer. She did, slowly.

"Come on," he said impatiently. "I told you I wasn't gonna shoot you."

Elizabeth smiled and sat down cross-legged against one of the many large boxes lining the walls of the cargo bay, this time so that she could see Jayne as he talked.

"… thinks he's real important, the Badger does. _Guay_, I'd crush him flat if he didn't give us jobs every once in a while. And like I said, you best not go runnin' off your mouth. Might get people suspicious, real important kid like you takin' passage on a ship like this. Nothin' against _Serenity_, _dahng ran_. Good ship. Wouldn't trade it for nothing." He paused, looked up thoughtfully. "Well, maybe not _nothing_. But it would have to be a ruttin' lot of money," he insisted, as though reassuring _her_ of his relative attachment to the ship.

And Elizabeth smiled and leaned back against the crate, managing to ignore for the first time in a long time the low-level anxiety that was always present in the back of her mind. For a blessed twenty minutes she could forget that she was Elizabeth Arnold, high-minded, well-bred, well-educated Elizabeth Arnold with her stirring speeches and oratorical talent. All Jayne Cobb required was the occasional sign that she was listening as he expounded upon what to expect on Persephone– most injunctions including some form of "not runnin' off your mouth."

The anxiety only returned with the arrival in the cargo bay of Captain Reynolds and Zoë, when Jayne began to strap his gleaming arsenal onto a belt across his chest, zipping it all up under a concealing jacket. Elizabeth had hoped that the guns were polished for _show_, not use.

"All good?" the Captain asked.

"Shiny," Jayne said, looking about as well as Elizabeth was sick.

The cargo bay jolted a little as _Serenity_ touched down in Eavesdown Docks.

"Then let's get going."

Elizabeth held back for a moment as the three crewmates made for the exit. "Captain?" she asked nervously. "Captain Reynolds?"

"Gotta problem, Arnold?"

Elizabeth ran to catch up. "Captain… what exactly am I supposed to be doing?"

"What? Didn't you figure it out yet?" he asked. "You're the diversion. You're gonna give a little speech."

Elizabeth blanched. A speech. How was that for not running off her mouth?


	5. The Persephone Speech

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

**Five– The Persephone Speech**

"This isn't right!" Simon stormed, standing in the engine room, imploring Kaylee for her support. "Don't you think it's a little reckless? River's helped with jobs before, but _go hwong-tong_! This is a heavily Alliance planet! You don't set down a fugitive on a planet like this and _ask_ her to make a scene!"

The news that Elizabeth was being used as a diversion to smuggle goods out of Persephone had come as a complete shock to Simon, and he'd hoped that Kaylee would provide some back up for him when the crew returned. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the case.

Kaylee shrugged, wiping down her blackened hands on a graying jumpsuit. "I dunno. You'd think after six years doin' things like that, she'd be able to handle herself," she said grimly. Simon gaped.

"But it's reckless!" he insisted.

"Shiny," Kaylee said.

Simon took a step back, into the doorway of the engine room. "Kaylee?" he asked carefully. "Is something wrong?"

Kaylee shrugged again. "'Course not, Simon," she said, unconvincing. "Nothin's wrong. I'm not upset with you at all."

"Kaylee–"

Kaylee whirled around, hands on her hips. "Oh, _kao_, Simon! You know why I'm upset! Last three days, you've been ignorin' me! And it's all because of that... that _jien huo_!"

"That isn't fair, Kaylee."

She raised her eyebrows, incredulous. "Not fair? _Jien tah-duh guay _it ain't fair. I always thought you liked talkin' to me, Simon, but I figure I'm just second-best now."

Simon closed his eyes wearily, trying to explain: "That isn't Kaylee. You're not second-best– you're _the_ best. It's just... it's been such a long time since I've been able to have some intelligent conversation!"

The room fell silent, and Simon immediately realized his mistake.

"Oh _guay_, Kaylee– I didn't mean–"

She shook her head emphatically and pushed passed him in the doorway.

"No," she said, tearing up. "I get it. Everything's fine, shiny. Really. I understand now." She turned and looked back at the Doctor, wiping her eyes. "You were right that one time– you and I... it was only because I was 'the only girl in the world.' But now that _she's_ here, you have _options_. Fine, Simon. I hope she comes back safe. Wouldn't wantcha stuck with us uneducated type the rest of your life."

She stomped off, leaving Simon– once again– to curse his ineptitude. He could never manage to say the right thing. But after all, he wasn't some famous orator like Elizabeth Ar–

"Oh, _go-se_," he muttered.

- - - - -

Captain Reynolds and Zoë were gone. They'd left maybe twenty minutes ago, melded into the crowd and disappeared, leaving her with hazy instructions, mounting anxiety, and Jayne Cobb. And now, there she stood, surrounded by curious spectators who recognized the name and wondered what brilliant words she had this time, for the first time in six years.

This is how Captain Reynolds had explained it:

"_Three months back, that Miranda footage came out– remember?"_

"_Yes, of course," she'd said._

"_Right. Well, there hasn't been any big uprising as you know, but people don't trust the Alliance like they used to. And papers, speeches what escaped burnin' six years ago– your speeches included– have been showin' up all over the place. Feds ain't too happy about that."_

_She'd nodded._

"_The Feds'll do most anything to stop those papers gettin' out. People get riled up, and that distracts 'em from watchin' out for people like us. The way I see it, you're the best distraction we've got. All those riotous speeches– in the flesh."_

That was when Elizabeth had begun to panic.

"_We did something similar months back. Big surprise– Jayne here's a real hero on Higgins's Moon. Mudders love him, much like the old Browncoats love you. He gave a speech– proper diversion– and we got the goods on board without any hindrance. Think you can do the same?"_

"_Yes, of course," she'd said automatically, while every nerve in her body screamed for her to run, run, run._

"_Good," the Captain had said. "And in case the Feds come and try to do you in, Jayne here's gonna be right in the crowd. Dong ma?"_

"_Dong ma, yes."_

No! What had she been thinking? She couldn't do it– she couldn't be Elizabeth Arnold and speak so proudly about freedom and the triumph of the human will. Human will? She was acting as though she herself was on autopilot– she had no will. If she had any power left in her body, she'd be running as fast as she could instead of standing there in front of all those wide-eyed faces. She had to speak now. She couldn't open her mouth.

"You really Elizabeth Arnold?" someone shouted from the crowd.

She nodded jerkily. "Yes," she said. "I am."

A murmur moved through the people like a wave, like lightning traveling down a metal rod. And the air did feel electric. Everyone expected something good, something big. Hadn't she always captivated crowds with her speeches before? But now, she could only see through tunnel vision, the waiting people just a pinpoint of light at the end of a long, long tube of blackness. She was certain she was going to die. Absolutely certain. And in her head, her thoughts bounced back magnified– loud echoes that blocked out everything else so she could hardly think. ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN, ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN... Her ears were ringing. She was going to die. She was going crazy. Her muscles were giving out completely. ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN! She couldn't feel her toes. They had been tingling just a moment ago, but now her whole body felt numb. It felt _nothing_. She was going to die. ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN! She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe?

_You're having a panic attack,_ something said underneath the racing thoughts and booming echoes. _It doesn't mean anything._

"Yes it does, of course it does," she said. "I'm going to die!"

The crowd was gaping in confusion. Her vision, normal vision, had returned. She lifted her hand in front of her eyes, clenched it, opened it. She could feel her fingers, _lao tyen yeh._ But the crowd was waiting, and near the back, Jayne Cobb was staring at her with undisguised suspicion.

"We're all going to die," she said. "But do you remember what they told us six years ago?"

"Unify or die!" another voice shouted.

"Yes!" Elizabeth replied. "Unify or die! As if... as if... as if we couldn't truly live unless we joined the Allied Planets. As if their way of living somehow defines life for the rest of us. As if they are the standard-bearers."

There was a murmur of agreement.

"We've seen what they think of life," she said. "Miranda. What they think they can do to life– to improve it. Well, they _have_ created something. Something... un-human."

A louder murmur.

"Is that right?"

The sweat had to be pouring down her face by now. Everyone would see it. Everyone would see her start to sway on the platform– they had to. Her hands were tingling again. She was going to die.

"I don't think it's right... I don't think it's..."

She was going to die. She was certain of it. ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN! And the crowd was swaying.

"Stop shaking– stop shaking, everyone," she said. "You're making me dizzy..."

_It's only a panic attack,_ the low voice said. _You're used to it. It doesn't mean anything. Ride it out._

"Ride it out!" she shouted. "It doesn't mean anything! Flies– sugar– it doesn't mean anything..."

There was gunfire, and people screaming, when everything went black.


	6. A Good Story

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Six– A Good Story**

"River," Mal said through the ship's intercom system, striding through the cargo bay. "We're lifting off now. D'you hear me? _Now_."

_Serenity_ immediately began to move, and Inara braced herself against the railing on the catwalk.

"Where's Jayne?" she asked casually.

The shudder of engine as the ship shot into the sky, then out of it into the emptiness of the black.

"Mal– where is Elizabeth?"

Mal and Zoe exchanged looks, Zoë wiping her forehead where shining droplets of sweat had gathered just below her hairline.

"Feds broke up the crowd where she was speaking. Time we got there, she and Jayne had disappeared."

Inara took a step down the metal stairway, frowning. "You mean they've been taken in?"

"Didn't say that," Mal grunted. "But we almost did. Where's the Doctor?"

"I'm here." Simon appeared beside Inara on the catwalk, looking worried. "What's wrong?"

"Zoë took a shot," Mal said.

"Captain, it's nothing," she replied quickly. Inara saw that she held her forearm tightly to her chest, and it was dripping red just a little.

"Might as well get it bandaged up properly, though," Mal responded. He glanced up at Simon, who hadn't moved. "What you doing still standin' there, Doctor? You've got a patient. Get her fixed up."

"Where's Elizabeth?" he asked. "And Jayne?"

Mal grimaced. "We had to leave them to get away. Feds were everywhere."

Simon shook his head, unbelieving. "Well, are we going back?"

"Do you want to be taken in, with your sister?"

"Are we going _back_?"

Inara watched the exchange silently. Mal was tense. After years on this ship and, before that, her Companion training, Inara could read Captain Reynolds's body language quite expertly. His fists were clenched, and his facial muscles tightened even when he was not speaking, as though he tried to bite down on unpleasant thoughts. He stood rigidly, staring up at Simon coldly.

"You have a patient, Doctor," he spit.

Simon and Zoë disappeared.

Inara stood, unspeaking, for a moment more. So tense, and not just because he'd left a member of his crew and a passenger behind in a hostile setting. That was the risk they took. That had happened before. This came from something _else_.

"_Aiya– Huaile_," she said quietly.

"_Chou ma niao_ something's wrong!" Mal shouted. "We're not losing Jayne along with everything else!"

She sighed and smoothed her long silk dress and she descended the stairs to the floor of the cargo bay.

"Is Elizabeth 'everything else'?" she asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mal snapped back.

"Mal," she said quietly. "Either you are worried about Jayne and _only_ Jayne, or you are worried about both of them– but not for the same reasons."

"Get to the point."

Inara looked up into the Captain's eyes. "There was no job from the Badger, was there?" she asked. "All this– the diversion, the speech– was a set-up, wasn't it?"

Mal shook his head. "You don't know what you're talkin' about, Inara, and I'd stay out of it if I were you."

"I wondered who the buyers for those books were," she continued, perfectly calm. "Who would pay so much for a crate or two of old speeches? But it makes perfect sense now." She shook her head, disgusted. "You're selling to the Alliance."

Mal fixed her with a hard look. "You know what we do," he said. "We take what jobs we can get to stay fed and stay fueled."

"Then it's true?" she asked.

Honestly, Inara was a bit shocked that she had proved so right. And yet, it all did make such sense– with the footage from Miranda echoing through the planetary systems of the Alliance, Parliament must be desperate to destroy whatever manifestos of dissent had escaped destruction after the Unification War. Old arguments could be used again, and who knew to what affect?

"We're selling those books to smugglers on Beylix who will take them to the Alliance," Mal responded coldly. "That has nothing to do with–"

Inara laughed. "Yes, of course. You're selling the books on Beylix, and– _oh, juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan!_ What a wonderful development. Infinitely more valuable than the writings is the writer herself, who River finds and brings straight to you. What a boon! She had it right all along, didn't she? Didn't she say 'there's the rest of your cargo,' Mal?"

Mal's eyes were blazing now, and his jaw clenched down harder. "You'd better _bizui_ now."

But Inara wouldn't stop. "You set her up in the middle of Eavesdown Docks talking about freedom and rebellion– a sitting duck, Mal! And when the Feds took her, their operatives would find you and pay you. But something went wrong. They didn't get her, and when the Feds got to _you_, they weren't bearing gold or platinum. They thought you'd tricked them, and probably identified you as that pesky Captain who'd caused the _need_ to destroy that propaganda in the first place. So you ran. You're not worried about Jayne. You really _are_ worried about Elizabeth. Because when they catch her, you won't be getting paid. Of course, the one thing I don't fully understand is why you didn't tell Jayne so he wouldn't help the poor girl make her big escape. But then again, he seems rather strongly opposed to selling out passengers lately, for whatever reason. Is it possible you were worried _Jayne_ would be the voice of conscience?"

Mal stared for a moment, then smiled wryly. "Good story. Maybe _you_ should be the writer, Inara."

Inara froze as Mal passed her on the stairs. She shook her head without a word as she heard his boots on the creaking metal catwalk. She heard him pause, and she looked after.

"And by the way," Mal said, weary suddenly. "Jayne did know."


	7. That Unconscious Kid

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Seven– That Unconscious Kid**

"In earnest, kid," the voice was saying when she woke up. "I'd like to know just what the _guay_'s goin' on here."

Elizabeth rubbed her head, which was pounding something awful. Her fingers met a sticky spot near her right ear, and when she pulled the hand away, saw by the flickering firelight that it was tinged red with blood.

"I'm bleeding," she said to herself, not yet registering her surroundings. Firelight nearby, deep darkness without. That's all. And she couldn't think straight– her head was aching too much.

"Hey!" the voice shouted. "I'm talkin' to you! And I'll be needin' some answers right about now." A sharp metallic click rang out into the nighttime, and Elizabeth– dazed– looked up from her sticky fingers to find herself staring down the barrel of a large gun. She didn't know too much about weapons, but Elizabeth was fairly sure that if she heard another metallic-sounding click, she wouldn't be hearing anything else… ever.

"_Tyen shiao duh,_" she whispered, terrified, as she lifted her hands slowly to shoulder height. "Please– don't shoot. I'm unarmed– can't hurt nobody. And I'm not who you think I am. Just… please… put it away."

"No, _yu bun duh_, of course you ain't who you say you are," the voice said, clearly irritated, as the weapon was lowered and the figure holding it leaned forward into the firelight.

"Mr. Cobb!" Elizabeth shouted, shocked. "I thought you were a Fed!"

Jayne grinned. "An I would be too, if it weren't for me back there," he said proudly. "Came at us like a bolt outta the blue and– hey!" He raised the gun again, threateningly. "No funny business!"

Elizabeth shook her head as her arms shot up.

"All right," Jayne said, eyes narrowed. "Now you're gonna tell me exactly who you are an what you're doin' right here."

"That might be difficult," Elizabeth mumbled.

"_What'd you say?"_

"Nothin'!" Elizabeth insisted. "Only… it might be easier for me to make sense of things if I knew what _here_ was. I remember bein' at Eavesdown Docks, speaking, and then– well, then, nothing." She looked around timidly. "And why aren't we on the ship?"

Jayne laid the massive weapon down by his feet and stretched his hands over the fire. "There is no ship," he said darkly. "She left. Not that it matters to _you_. _You_ weren't s'posed to get on it again anyhow."

Elizabeth frowned and fell silent, looking back down at her hands. Not supposed to get back on _Serenity_? She'd been promised passage to Beylix. She hadn't exactly paid for it yet, but she had fully meant to. And speaking of getting paid… her crate was on that ship out in the black somewhere now. The crate! Captain Reynolds wouldn't be getting any of her promised money now, but then, neither would she. What luck. That crate had been everything, and now all she had was a bloody lump on her head and an armed _maniac_ staring her down across a fire. And _he_ seemed to know everything already– or if not everything, quite a lot more than anybody else had guessed. Elizabeth figured that now would be a perfect time for another panic attack, but strangely, the loss of her hoped-for fortune didn't come as such a blow. At least, not as much of a blow as having to stand in front of a hundred strangers and pontificate on liberty and the duties of government. That was a laugh.

Jayne laughed. "You really believed him, huh?" he asked. "Really thought you were helpin' the crew. Cap'n Mal played it off real well, didn't he?" He laughed again. "Well, you woulda helped us too, if I wasn't so goddamn _perceptive_."

Elizabeth could hardly imagine what that was supposed to mean, but she had latched on to one key thing. "Captain Reynolds lied?" she asked. "I wasn't really the diversion?"

"Nope," he said, biting into a strip of some dried meat and tossing Elizabeth another.

"_Xie-xie_," she muttered. Jayne only continued to eat.

Finally, after licking his fingers clean, the man looked up again, seemingly ready to expound more on the story. "Nope, not the diversion," he said, picking up right where they'd left off. "You were the main event. The Famous Elizabeth Arnold Speaks, and the Feds pay pretty good to take her away. "Course…" He glanced at her suspiciously. "You ain't Elizabeth Arnold."

She sighed and bit into the jerky eagerly, and not at all in the proper way she'd adopted on _Serenity_, with true blue bloods like Simon and River Tam at table with her. No use pretending anymore.

"Not officially, I ain't," she said, realizing she'd already dropped the pretentious language. "And now with that in the clear– you're right, all right? – But I still don't understand why I'm here, and why I'm bleedin'."

"Well, why you're bleedin's easy. You started coming around right when the Feds were poking about near head, so I knocked you out again with Lux here." He pointed to the gun fondly.

"_What?"_

"But how we got _here_? That's a longer story…"

- - - - -

From the very start, the girl had been acting strange. Her face had blanked out almost immediately when she got a good look at all the people gathered around to hear her, and her lips moved without projecting any sound, as though she was talking to herself. Not something a seasoned public speaker generally did. Heck, _he'd_ been a little unnerved by all the faces when he'd had to speak at Canton for all those mudders, but he hadn't suddenly started shouting _"I'm gonna die!"_, had he?

Admittedly, she'd covered that up fairly well. She'd seemed to rally then, and Jayne had thought that maybe he was wrong and maybe the kid was just nervous about Feds and rusty from six years of laying low. But even when she started engaging the crowd and talking about Miranda coherently, she still was a far shot from her hologram in that book he'd looked at. That girl had been poised in front of a crowd. _That_ girl had spoken with some conviction, at least. _This_ one was turning green, looked near to passing out.

And she did.

But there was hardly time to think when she fell, because just at that moment, the expected Feds showed up, stun guns dropping the men and women who'd congregated in that corner of the Docks like flies. _Catch more flies with sugar_, he'd thought wryly as he pulled Lux from the gun belt under his jacket and fired a couple rounds into the air.

Chaos. Just how he liked it.

The shock on the faces of the Feds proved that, after their deal with Mal, they hadn't expected any sort of resistance. And that two-second pause was all Jayne needed to wade through the crowd, grab unconscious "Elizabeth," and dart off in the ensuing mayhem without another shot to give away their position.

Mal would be accosted by the Feds on Persephone now, accused of cheating them, and forced to run just to escape grounding the ship. And sure enough, within twenty minutes, Jayne watched as _Serenity_ lifted off and became a tiny, gleaming blip in the sky. There went all chance of redemption. The crew (at least, those who knew about the plan) would assume he'd found the money too tempting and intended to keep the bounty all for himself. And he could've done it, too. Nobody except him alone seemed to doubt that this phobic redhead was anyone but the renowned writer and speaker. He could still get the money– and _guay_, was it a lot of money– but it didn't seem as acceptable now that she wasn't a wealthy, well-educated intellectual who could handle herself anymore. Now, she was just some helpless, terrified, unconscious kid who'd gotten herself in a whole lot of trouble.

_Jung chi duh go-se dway!_ Why did he have to be such a goddamn decent mercenary?


	8. Less than Ethical

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

A/N: I don't generally like to write long-winded, self-indulgent author's notes, but I think this one's all right because I just want to thank everyone who has been reading, and especially Flowerfairy30 for the review. – Tegildess

Disclaimer: I own nothing, in perpetuity.

**Eight– Less than Ethical**

The bright, hand-painted sign proclaiming "KAYLEE'S ROOM" was hardly forbidding, but she assumed that its invocation of privacy could be considered a warning for _certain_ people who were very much _unwanted_ at the moment– namely SIMON TAM– to stay away. However, River was not one of those people, and for that reason, Kaylee only looked up despondently when the girl climbed down the ladder into her room.

"Hi River," she said tiredly.

"Simon says he's an idiot," River said, jumping lightly from the ladder to the floor.

Kaylee's face lit up for a second, but the look quickly faded. "Did he really say that?" Kaylee could hope, but such a forthright apology didn't really sound like Simon at all. He'd beat around the bush awkwardly until Kaylee gave in and then, a week later, he said something insensitive again. And yet… she could hope. "Honest?"

River cocked her head to the side, resting it on her left shoulder. "He was thinking it," she said.

Kaylee sighed. "_Not_ the same." If Simon was mooning about in his infirmary because he was worried about perfect _Elizabeth_ still stranded back on Persephone instead of trying to talk to her, well, he could just stay there for all Kaylee cared. Kaylee sighed. She knew that was a lie. She hated being angry with Simon– even when it was for good reason– because she missed his company. Of course, he didn't seem to miss Kaylee's as much as he did _hers_.

River swung in a circle around the metal ladder, her skirt billowing out like a jellyfish around her legs. "He does miss you," she said, and then added, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to say– "_She_ isn't the real Elizabeth anyway!"

Kaylee started. Not the real…? "_Tsai boo shr_," she whispered. "What're you talkin' about River?"

River let go of the ladder pole but continued to spin around on the small floor-space. "She's not the real Elizabeth," she repeated, matter-of-fact. "She's an imposter. So you don't have to be mad at Simon any more."

Kaylee didn't know what to say. But rather than question how River knew this– very probably the way she knew everything going on around _Serenity_– Kaylee was struck by an even more unpleasant idea. She stood up angrily–

"So…" she said, forehead wrinkling in frustration. "He preferred a _fake_ 'intellectual' over the _real_ me!" She crossed her arms. "_Go-se_! That don't make it any better, River."

River stopped whirling around and sat down on Kaylee's bed. "Simon's an idiot," she said calmly. "Even he knows that. But it's all better now– I got Elizabeth off the ship for you."

Kaylee turned to River slowly. "You what?"

River smiled. "I knew she was making you and Simon fight, so I got her off the ship."

Kaylee sat down on the other edge of her bed carefully. The thing about River was this– while she had flashes of utter brilliance, and could be the best fun on a good day, there was something about her that was just _off_. Not the mind-reading, exactly, although that could be a little unnerving, even for people like Kaylee who had grown rather used to it. It was the way she interpreted information sometimes, or the way she'd try to fix things that were always a little less than ethic.

"What do you mean, you 'got her off' _Serenity_?"

River crossed her legs under her, and Kaylee imagined that the girl resembled a large, spindly insect of some sort. And she hoped River wasn't reading her thoughts just then.

"I knew she wasn't really who she said she was from the beginning," River started. "And then I found out Mal and Jayne and Zoë were going to set her up to get captured on Persephone, and it was perfect."

"They did _what_?" She shook her head. "I can see Jayne, and maybe Mal, but _Zoë_ too?"

"Zoë doesn't like to think about things anymore. Anyway," River continued placidly. "I would have told somebody who she was before they took her down there, but I wanted her off the ship. She was upsetting you."

Kaylee, vaguely horrified by the story, took a deep breath and wondered how she was supposed to explain what she wanted to say. She could hardly believe what River had said in the first place.

"River," Kaylee started. "That's real nice of you an' all, but… you can't just let somebody get in danger like that… even if it is for a, a, a good cause an' all."

River smiled, twisting her long dark hair around and around her hand. "I didn't put her in danger," she insisted. "I left her with Jayne."

Kaylee rubbed her eyes. "Ain't that reassuring," she said.


	9. Conspirators

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

**Nine– Co-Conspirators**

Now that the memory of her panic attack at Eavesdown Docks was fading, and she no longer had the pressing concern of a staring contest with a gun barrel to contend with, the thought of having completely lost her future fortune with the disappearance of _Serenity_ was looking pretty bleak to Helen Arnold. She was starting to sweat. Her fingers were going numb. She was absolutely certain she was going to d–

"Some story," Jayne said with a low whistle. "Almost wish I hadn't guessed so right. Then I could still sell you off for a shipload of platinums."

The ground was swaying. The crate. The crate,_ da-shiang bao tse shr la duh too-tze_! The crate was gone. And Jayne's voice was coming to her from the end of a long, long tunnel.

"I still _could_ sell you," Jayne mused, picking at his teeth with the blade of a small knife. "That is, if you ain't lying again and it really is only you and your ma what knows your sister's dead."

ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN!

"Oh, _guay_." Jayne raised his pistol and fired up into the sky. Helen shook her head quickly and looked up, as though shocked to find herself alive and well. She beamed at Jayne, and he returned a scowl.

"In earnest," he said, shaking his head. "I can't quite see how you hoaxed it as far as you did. You're a nervous mess, kid."

Helen nodded. "I agree," she admitted tiredly.

"And that weren't no question," Jayne muttered. "But you must be goddamn lucky too. Even a couple days is a shocker. You're a _mess_. _Go-se_, you're a basket case."

"I get it," Helen said tersely. "I'm not the coolest under pressure." She threw up her hands in defeat. "Guess it's only 'cause you were all so hard-set on me being her to begin with. Likely, I couldn't've pulled a sale off even if I _weren't_ pretendin' so hard– I'm too nervous to be trusted, and I know it. But, _lao tyen yeh_, I wanted to sell those books!"

Jayne shrugged, in complete agreement that no smuggler would ever do business with a girl who came close to blacking out while under any sort of stress. And still, he was mildly impressed with Helen Arnold, who was willing to get herself shot (which, being totally honest, would have been the likely scenario if she'd managed somehow to get herself to buyers at Beylix) to sell off a crate of books written by a sister just hardly buried.

"Gotta hand it to you, though," he said almost grudgingly. "For a kid like you, it ain't nothing just to get _on_ a ship to Beylix."

Helen sighed, glancing up from the fire to appreciate the rather backhanded compliment. "_Xie-xie_," she mumbled.

"Now I ain't saying I don't like the idea," Jayne added after a moment of thought. "But I can't figure why you even tried. Your sainted sister spends years fighting Unification, and the last six of 'em writing her essays while _sick in bed_, and then you go off to sell 'em to the Feds while she's still warm in her grave." He laughed. "Crazy, but pretty good."

Helen brightened up a bit, at least enough to smile faintly as she stood to toss some more wood into the dwindling fire. "Sold out my sister, didn't I? And all her precious work…" Helen kicked a branch into the embers particularly viciously. "Well, I'm sorry it confuses you, but I'm a bit bemused myself. I was told your Captain Reynolds fought for Independence, and he went and sold my sister– well, me… but kinda my sister too– with hardly a backward glance." She laughed. "It ain't too hard to figure out. I don't blame him, or you if you did choose to sell me out now. Nobody does know Lizzy's dead 'cept for me and Ma. The Alliance wouldn't know the difference, save I'm a 'nervous mess' like you say and she was a real cool one under fire. You'd've liked _her_."

Jayne watched Helen stoke the fire until it blazed up nearly as high as her waist. She _was_ a mess, honest, and her red hair looked like some demonic halo of fire in the flickering light, but the girl wasn't half bad. And she wasn't about to look her nose down at a smuggler, seeing what she'd tried to do.

"No, it ain't half so confusing as you make it out to be," Helen said, sitting back down on her side of the fire. "I was gonna move my Ma off that stink hole planet for good. Lizzy never even thought about it– stuck-up snot. I think she liked being the best in the family of nobodies. Yep, I was gonna move 'em. And I was gonna get me a nice place somewhere a little cooler too, with all that money." She laughed bitterly. "If I'm going anywhere cooler now, it's St. Alban's."

Maybe… if the kid could keep her cool for a couple days– and likely she could, if she knew she wasn't going it alone– he figured they might be able to pull off a heist much bigger than the one she'd hoped for. And besides, Mal and the crew already thought he'd gone rogue. Why not make some money if he'd be on his own for a while?

"How about we both get rich?" he asked, grinning at her shocked face. "Long as it ain't Reavers–" he shuddered slightly. "– _I_ don't get nervous around nothing."


	10. The Rest of the Cargo

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

A/N: I know, I know… up until now the plot has mainly progressed inside people's heads. I do promise, however, some actual action coming up very soon. And special thanks to bladefax for the review! But meanwhile, back on _Serenity…_ – Tegildess

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Ten– The Rest of the Cargo**

"What's all the shouting?"

Simon emerged from his room, still half-asleep, to a cacophony of voices raised high in some sort of argument. He'd much rather be in bed. But above anything else, the thought which drove him from his bunk so late at night was the idea that the highest-pitched voice, shouting angrily, was Kaylee's.

"Kaylee?" he asked, stepping out into the hallway, where Kaylee and Mal stood arguing loudly, River sitting– calm and silent– nearby, Zoë standing similarly still and silent. "Kaylee– what's wrong?"

"I suggest you stay out of this, Doctor," Mal said with a grimace. "It doesn't concern you."

Kaylee scoffed. "It don't concern him?" she asked, clearly agitated. "'Course it concerns him! He's the one what's been ignorin' me for days because you left her down on Persephone!"

Simon was out of his depth. "I haven't been _ignoring_ you!" he insisted, but she took it as beside the point, turning back to Mal angrily. For his part, the Captain had managed to stay relatively calm, though Simon could sense his blood was close to boiling under the hard exterior.

"The Alliance wouldn't have killed her," Mal said, in the tone of repeating a justification for the third or fourth time in the course of the argument. "She's too useful to them alive."

Simon started. "Wait– you're not talking about Elizabeth, are you?" Mal and Kaylee ignored him completely, and Mal continued with his rationalization.

"Better to get the girl to take back some of her old comments in public than martyr her, anyhow," he said. "She'd've been _fine_. They'd've sent her home in a month."

"You couldn't possibly know that," a woman's voice rang out scornfully. Inara stood on the other side of the feuding Mal and Kaylee, beside River, who seemed perfectly content simply to watch and contribute nothing. "Good morning, Simon," Inara said dryly. "Did they wake you too?"

"_Aiya_, Inara!" Mal groaned. "You wanna be in this fight too?"

Inara smiled. "I've told you what I think already, Malcolm. You dropped an innocent, unarmed girl on a planet swarming with Federal Officers, _lied_ to her about your purposes, and all so you could garner a profit."

Simon rubbed his head in confusion. "_Huile_," he muttered. "It was all a set-up!"

Mal pounded his fist on the wall, frustrated, and glared at Inara. "As I just finished explaining for God knows how many times– she'd've been fine!"

Kaylee hugged herself tightly. "But Captain, it ain't _right_!" She implored Zoë's aid with a glance. "It ain't right, is it?" Zoë didn't move.

Simon gaped. "I'm sorry…" he said, utterly bewildered. "I thought you didn't _like_ Elizabeth."

"It's the principle of the thing," Kaylee sniffed. And, turning back to Mal: "And _specially_ because River here says she weren't really Elizabeth Arnold anyhow."

"_Da-shiang bao-tza shr duh lah doo-tze_!" Mal finally shouted, causing the rest of the crew and passengers to fall silent. "If you want principle, you'd best get off this ship. _Dong ma_? And I don't think I'd hear any of you complaining if we'd got the money we'd planned on." He stopped. "What did you say?"

Kaylee's voice was hushed, nervous. "River says that, that girl we had up here, she ain't Elizabeth."

Simon shook his head as he tried (vainly) to gather his thoughts into some coherency. Elizabeth (who wasn't really Elizabeth) had been set up, but something had clearly gone terribly wrong– Inara and Kaylee knew about it and were certainly not happy– Jayne must have known, and Zoë– River knew but didn't tell, and was still… River had disappeared.

"River?" Simon called. "_Dahng ran_," he muttered tiredly. This was the absolutely last thing he needed. First the break in his sleep– not that he'd been getting much sleep anyway since his fight with Kaylee– and now River goes missing. Admittedly, it wasn't a large ship in which to hide, but River was, well, River, and she could evade capture for as long as she wanted, if she wanted. And if the shouting had upset her, as was fairly likely, she might hurt herself. She claimed to be getting better, but the medication's effects were still erratic at times. He hoped against hope that _this_ was not one of those times.

"River?" he called again, his voice reverberating in eerily disjointed echoes as he passed from the hallway into the empty body of the ship. "Please come out, River. It's late!"

"_Come out River– out River– River– River!"_ Simon realized with a shiver that the echo that time had not come from a trick of acoustics. The voice was not his own– it was very clearly his sister's.

"Oh, River, this ain't funny!" Kaylee said, stepping forward to stand next to Simon. He noticed she looked worried, maybe more than worried– frightened. She glanced at Simon as though on the verge of saying something, but never opened her mouth.

"_Kaylee thinks I'm not doing so well!"_ River said, her voice bouncing back into the hallway where her brother stood so nervously. Kaylee gasped and clamped her hands over her mouth. Eyes wide, she looked up at Simon.

"I didn't say that, did I?" she said, horrified. "I mean, I was thinking it, but– oh, Simon, I didn't meant that!" Kaylee moaned miserable, and continued. "All I mean was– she came in my room today and told me she knew all the time _she_ weren't who she said she was. And that she didn't tell nobody because she _wanted_ her off the ship. She _wanted _her off because she knew how upset I was!"

Simon swallowed hard and shook his head. He didn't like to think of it, but maybe Kaylee was right. Maybe River wasn't getting better. From somewhere in the dark ship, River laughed, and the sound chilled even her brother.

"_I have the real one, though," _she said, the voice sounding closer. _"I didn't let the other one take the _real_ Elizabeth off the ship."_

In a flash, River stood before them with the forgotten small crate "Elizabeth" had brought onto _Serenity_ as a passenger, dropping it right in front of Mal.

"It's the rest of your cargo," she said sweetly.

Mal frowned and, with Zoë's help, pried open the top.

"So _that's_ what she meant," Simon muttered.

Handwritten papers filled the box, each stamped with the name E. ARNOLD in the lower right-hand corner. Ordinary-looking at first glance, the papers would nonetheless fetch a small fortune, and fit in well with the cargo of anti-Unification literature Mal, Zoë, and Jayne had hidden in the ship just days before. But on closer inspection, the material proved to be much more valuable.

"_Aiya_," Zoe said, kneeling beside the contents of the crate. "That's something."

These weren't simply by-hand copies of old work– they were completely new writings, and with even a skim, the word "Miranda" jumped out from every page.

"I expect she wrote them secretly over the past few months, staying out of the public eye, and entrusting them to her sister to be distributed when she died," River said, matter-of-fact. "She and her sister Helen grew up on Santo– Elizabeth was predominantly self-educated, which is why her less fortunate neighbors supported her so strongly, and still do. This was the perfect place to come back to after the war. Much of her work had been preserved thanks to local fervor."

Mal shook his head, incredulous. "And you got all that from her brain?"

River smiled. "Simon's encyclopedia."


	11. Our Mrs Cobb

THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Eleven– Our Mrs. Cobb**

The Captain based his business on a sterling reputation as an honest man. Even when transporting cargo to a planet infamous as a haven for smugglers, he nonetheless insisted on legitimate work and legitimate. Of course, _these_ passengers didn't look as though they'd care if _Jing Tsai_ was a smuggler's vessel or not. It was _he_ who didn't trust _them_.

They looked more like a couple of petty criminals than newlyweds on their way to a honeymoon in Beylix– and who but criminals would go to _Beylix_ for a honeymoon anyhow? The man's smile was clearly forced– closer to a grimace, actually– and the woman seemed awful jumpy. Plus, their luggage consisted of one large crate the perfect size to hold a human body. The Captain had had his crew surreptitiously peek inside, but there was no body, only clothes that they could see. And the fact that the large man made him nervous (and didn't seem to care for his wife enough to do more that clap her on the shoulder when she began to look especially sallow) wasn't proof of criminal tendencies, only a woman afraid of flying, which wasn't too uncommon. So, he took the two aboard for a ride to Beylix and didn't see them too much after. They spent most of the time in their bunk, which wasn't too uncommon either.

- - - - -

Helen climbed down into the small room that was supposed to hold the two of them for the next week and gaped at the furnishings. One hard chair, a ragged carpet covering half the metal floor, and one bed that could probably fit two if the inhabitants were wrapped in each other's arms (which, all lies and aliases to the contrary, wasn't about to happen). Jayne didn't seem too perturbed, and immediately slouched onto the bed as Helen continued to look horrified.

"What do you think you're doin'?" she asked after a moment of horrified silence.

Jayne scowled. "I'm tired, so I'm sleeping." Helen shook her head.

"You have the blanket and sleep on the floor, and I get the bed," she said firmly. He only laughed.

"'Course you get the bed. But I do too," he said with a wicked grin. "We're s'posed to be married, hun, case your blackouts made you forget."

"I didn't black out today," Helen retorted. (Jayne scoffed: "That's a first.") "And I ain't sleepin' with you neither."

"Then you take the floor if you're so damn worried," he muttered. Helen shook her head violently.

"You knocked me unconscious," she offered as justification.

"I _saved_ you from the Feds, and don't think I had to!"

"Well," Helen said huffily. "You'd _wouldn't've_ had to if you didn't go 'round convincin' everybody I was 'Elizabeth Arnold.'"

"Well you look like it," Jayne said grimly. "'Sides– it ain't all my fault. You were playin' the dead-sister-betraying mercenary before I even met you."

Helen crossed her arms. "I am a lady," she said primly.

"Like _guay _you are," he muttered.

And at that, Helen's face turned from sickly green to beet red. "Look," she said angrily. "I didn't _ask_ you to help me. You coulda set me up like you were s'posed to, and we wouldn't even be bickering about this thing."

"No we wouldn't," Jayne said. "Because I'd be in my own bunk on _Serenity_. Besides, you coulda told good old Captain _Jing Tsai _you were my sister or something else, not my wife."

Helen laughed. "You're the one who taught me I'm no good at pretendin' to be somebody's _sister_."

There was some sense in that, and for a moment the two were silent, each trying vainly to rally more arguments to their side. Helen finally broke the silence.

"You knocked me unconscious!" she shouted.

Jayne glared at Helen as he yanked the blanket off the mattress and balled up his coat for a pillow on the hard floor, muttering all the time. "I could knock you out again and then you wouldn't _care_ where you were sleeping," he said, as Helen, smug, switched off the lights.

Seven days later, the _Jing Tsai _touched down at Beylix. Once out of sight of the ship, Jayne dumped the clothes in the long crate and removed the weapons he'd hidden at the bottom. Helen Arnold crawled inside.

- - - - -

Helen bounced along in darkness for the better part of an hour, trying to think of wide-open plains and endless blue skies. Lying awake in what was essentially a coffin was probably not the best thing for her already-frayed nerves, but, miraculously, she didn't go faint even once. Maybe she sweated a little, and her heart rate didn't exactly resemble a metronome, but that was simply nervousness. Helen had a very pleasant time distinguishing nervousness from _panic_. The difference had to be that she had a co-conspirator who had her back. For the first time since she'd taken her sister's things from their home on Santo, Helen felt relatively safe. Whatever the stories said, she would bet on Goliath any day.

"We already saw Mal, day ago," a low voice said.

"I ain't working with Mal any more," Jayne's voice answered. "But I've got something better than he does, promise." Helen imagined he was gesturing to the coffin now. "He got the books– I got the writer."

The low voice of the smuggler murmured something, and Helen could hear another person (not Jayne) responding almost inaudibly. Two smugglers. Jayne alone could take two. If there were any more, Helen might have to help, and that wasn't a good feeling. Her stomach flipped as she felt the hard metal pistol under her jacket. She managed to stay calm. They wouldn't want to hurt _her_, anyway.

"She ain't much good to us dead," one of the smugglers responded. This voice was a little higher, grating. It was either the second voice or a third. She couldn't tell.

Jayne laughed. "And that's why the _peow-liang de shaojie_ ain't dead." Helen closed her eyes and began to breathe slowly, feigning sleep. She could see the light behind her eyelids when Jayne lifted the lid of the box. "See– she's breathin'. I had to knock her out so she wouldn't try an' escape," he explained.

The light disappeared and reappeared as people bent over to see her more closely. She had to will herself to be still when a clammy hand brushed her face on the way to take her pulse.

"She's alive," said the grating voice.

"Good," the low one responded. The lid was closed again. "Now– we have the question of payment."

The low voice put forth a number.

"_Chou ma niao_!" Jayne cursed loudly. "You'd get twice that from the Feds!"

The grating voice laughed, and murmured again with the other smuggler. "I agree with you, Cobb," he said coldly. "I think we can do better than that."

Helen heard the beautiful clink of metal coins, hoping they were at that moment being passed to Jayne.

"That's more like it," he muttered. Helen grinned in the darkness. "I knew I made the right move when I–"

"What? Double-crossed your Captain?"

"_Go-se_!" Helen whispered, not needing release from the confines of her coffin to know who _that_ voice belonged to.

"Mal!" Jayne said, surprised. "They said you'd gone– what're you–"

"Waiting for you." A cool, female voice. Helen recognized it, but just barely– Zoë, _Serenity_'s First Officer. _Go-se!_

She felt her crate jerk backwards a little, and pictures Jayne backing up against it nervously. Mal and Zoë would be armed– Jayne would be out-numbered and unwilling to fire on his former crewmates. And he couldn't explain what had really happened _here_, of all places, with the smugglers who were supposed to believe that she was Elizabeth, not Helen, Arnold, standing right there. _Go-se, go-se, go-se! _It was frustration, not panic, that made her sweat now.

"This ain't what you think, Mal," Jayne said.

"No, it definitely ain't," Zoë said. "I know it doesn't matter to you, Jayne, but she isn't Elizabeth Arnold, and you can't go selling a perfectly innocent girl out to the Alliance. Not that her sister was guilty of anything in my book­– I should've protested that too." She paused. "Looks like I've gotten my second chance."

"Not Elizabeth?" the grating-voiced smuggler spit. "You cheated us!"

"_Aiya_, Zoë– you've gone and spoilt it!" Jayne swore. "_F__ay-fay duh pee-yen! _Godammit!"

The was a crack, a crunch that sounded like bones breaking, and more cursing from Jayne, punctuated with "Mal" quite a bit. The sharp report of a gunshot. Yelling. And worst of all, the click of two latches close by, a sound that could only be the locking of Helen's crate. She felt the box lift, and suddenly she was moving very, very fast.

"No! No! I'm awake! Let me out!" she shouted, pounding her fists into the splintery lid of the box. "Let me _out_!"

"It's all right, kid­ we're going to get you back to Santo safe." It was Zoë's voice, calm and soothing. "It's us, from _Serenity_."

"Santo can go to _guay_!" she screeched, hysterical. "Let me out!"

"You'll get out when we get back to the ship," Mal said in a terse voice, sounding quite tied of her screaming antics. "And you'd better _bizui_ if you don't want you captors after you again."

"That _is_ what I want!" she shouted over the roar of an engine. They must be on the mule she'd taken on Persephone, back when she was still playing at Elizabeth. "Where's Jayne? Let me go! Where's Jayne?"

"_Bizui, aiya!_" Mal ordered angrily.

"You got to listen to–"

"We're getting you home, _dong ma?_ Now shut it!"

Helen, incensed, wriggled halfway out of her jacket in the confines of the crate and pulled the small gun out of a zippered pocket. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed the muzzle up against the wooden lid and pressed down hard on the trigger.

_Bang!_

The mule swerved wildly, and Helen could see Mal through splinters scraping her face and the window she'd blasted away in her coffin. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at her temple.

"What the _guay_ is going on?" he demanded.

"Please– let me out," Helen insisted.

Not once removing the gun from her sight, Mal unlatched the crate and let Helen sit up. He grabbed her pistol away and gaped.

"Ship's ahead!" Zoë called, pointing out _Serenity_ maybe a mile away. Mal nodded, but his eyes remained fiercely glued on Helen's.

"Explain," he ordered.

"You can't leave Jayne," she said. Mal laughed bitterly. "No! He knew– he knew I weren't Elizabeth on Persephone. He helped me escape!"

"So what was that scene back there?"

Helen rubbed her forehead wearily. It was beginning to pound, but she couldn't do much to help the pain. Her fingers were burning, tingling, then numbing very quickly. "It wasn't real. It was an _act_. He was gonna take the money and run– with me." She groaned. "_Aiya_! He'd better have the money!"

Zoë and Mal exchanged a strange look, Mal finally turning to look at Helen, shaking his head.

"Once we've got you on the ship," he said. "We'll get Jayne."

Helen watched the ship approach through a long tunnel, then promptly blacked out.

- - - - -

When she woke up, Helen was lying in an infirmary bed, Doctor Simon Tam hovering over her. She turned her head painfully, and noticed that Kaylee was well was in the room, sitting on a counter. Her face lit up when Helen opened her eyes.

"Good– you're up," he said briskly, immediately pulling out a small flashlight to shine into her eye. She felt woozy. "You have a minor concussion…. and a couple large bumps on your head." He smiled kindly. "But you'll be perfectly all right."

Helen nodded and tried to swing her legs over the end of the bed so she could find Jayne and get her share of the bounty from selling "her sister."

"No– I don't think so," Simon insisted, gently pushing her back against her pillow. "You'll need to rest. You shouldn't get up just yet."

"But I need to–"

"I think it can wait a couple hours."

"No! I haven't–"

He pulled out a small metal instrument and placed it against her neck. Helen struggled to get away. "You're going to dope me!" she shouted.

"You need to sleep."

Helen shook her head and backed towards the door slowly. Simon and Kaylee exchanged exasperated looks.

"You really should get some rest," Kaylee said sweetly from her perch. "You got bruised up somethin' awful."

Helen only shook her head. "I'll go to sleep– I promise– but I have to see Jayne. He has my share. He has–"

Simon shook his head.

"Jayne's dead asleep on _his_ bunk now. You can talk to him later."

"I'm not going to let you dope me until I find out what's goin' on!" she shouted. Simon closed his eyes for a moment– for patience, she assumed– but remained calm. The "until" was a good sign, at least. And the caveat wasn't completely unreasonable.

"All right," he said calmly. "I'll tell you." Helen felt relief for a moment, but that quickly turned to suspicion when she noticed Simon glance up at something behind her in the doorway. She whirled around, but her reflexes weren't particularly sharp, and in a moment, Mal had her hands pinned behind her back. Simon was at her side with the drugs in an instant.

"Just _tell_ me what happened!" she insisted. "You don't have to put me to sleep yet! I'm not dangerous!"

"You almost shot me in the face from inside a box, kid," Mal muttered. "You're not wakin' up 'til we're back on Santo."

Helen was pushed back to her bed.

"I said I'll let him dope me," she directed at Mal. "I just want my share of the money."

Now Mal and Simon exchanged looks, and Helen realized that she wasn't about to receive any good news… or platinums.

"He didn't get it, did he?" she asked, despondent. Mal shook his head 'no.' "_Go-se_!"

"Not all jobs work out the way you plan," Mal said. "But at least you ain't sold to the Feds, right?"

Helen glowered. "This is your fault."

A shadow passed over Mal's face. "That's why we're gonna try and fix it. We still have the crate of your sister's writings, and if you want, we can help you distribute them– we have jobs all over, so I bet we can get them to half a dozen planets in the next few months. _Dong ma_?"

Helen laid her head back on the infirmary bed. "Distribute them," she muttered, feeling rather numb. Glancing at Simon– "Dope me, Doctor." As a sharp prick to the neck sent her halfway to sleep already, she glanced up at Mal. "Captain Reynolds?" she asked.

"Go ahead."

Helen was feeling limp, tired. She'd be out in a minute, but she didn't want to be dropped off at Santo before she could tell them what it was she really would like to enlist their help for.

"Can you help me sell them to the Feds instead?"

- - - - -

Mal glanced at the girl incredulously, who had fallen asleep before she could hear the answer. But after everything, Mal supposed she could only expect an unqualified 'yes.' He glanced at Simon and Kaylee, who looked completely shocked.

"A mercenary," Mal muttered, gesturing to Helen's supine form on the bed. "No wonder she and Jayne got along."

Simon was shaking his head, not believing what he'd heard. Kaylee simply sat, staring wide-eyed at the girl she thought had taken her place. Mal seemed to be thinking along those lines–

He glanced at Kaylee, close to laughing. "I don't think you have _anything_ to worry about," he said.

A/N: This was my first story for Firefly, and I plan to continue writing for it in the future, so I really appreciate the reviews and favorites I received, as well as anyone who just read through to the end. Thank you so very much for following along. You're all quite shiny. – Tegildess


End file.
